Hellhound
by AnonymousBystander
Summary: The ruling clan of Lycanthropes in Vatican city are decimated with only one surviver, so Virgil decides to make the city his. But just what is it that this survivor's hiding? And why is the demon Beelzebub determined to drag her to Hell?
1. Bloody Murder

As a warning to those readers who are Catholic or religious, I apologise if some of you are offended by parts of this story. (E.g. Celeste saying the Lord's Prayer whilst killing Zombies, or Virgil's digs at Catholicism.) I just want to assure you all, that my _own_ views and feelings on Christianity are in no way reflected by my characters. However, I _do_ want to say that if you are easily offended when it comes to religion, then please _don't_ read it. I don't want to get flamed to oblivion. Equally as important, don't see this warning then read it anyway, get offended and flame me. I _would not_ appreciate it.

On a lighter note; Enjoy!

And yes, the recent passing of PJP (Bless his soul) had _some_ influence on the story...

P.S. I don't own 'em, I'm just borrowing 'em. Uh, actually... him. _I own Celeste! She is mine mine mine mine mine mine mine!_

Ahem...

Night in Vatican City, Italy.

Only the faint sounds of sirens in the distance and dogs howling in reply pierced through the silence. Nathaniel shivered and pulled his coat firmer around him. It was almost like... the night was holding it's breath, waiting for something.

He knew he was being stupid. He shook his head and glanced back at the crowd he was leaving behind him; Catholics, well wishers for the dying Pope. People Praying for his soul. However, after a vigil of four days, Nathaniel had had enough. He wasn't as devoted to the Catholic Church as his sister Nathalie.

Turning a corner down the street to his home, he smiled faintly to himself. Even after 20 years, the twins still got jibes about their names. Nathaniel, Nathalie... they may have been twins, but they couldn't possibly be more different. Nathalie was devoted to the Roman Catholic Church, intent on becoming a Nun, hence her determination to stay in St. Peters Square until they had been told whether Pope Matthew had improved.

Nathaniel shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. Personally, he didn't really care. The old coot was going on 90, so it was about time he... you know. God had never done anything to Nathaniel, or more appropriately, _for_ Nathaniel, so he really didn't care about some leader dying. He dimly considered trying once more to go back for his sister, to get her out of the rain, but he knew that wild horses couldn't drag her away from the step of St. Peters.

He sighed and kicked a can into an alley. It rattled along the road, end over end, but suddenly stopped with a dull 'clang'. He heard the wet grind of the road beneath someone's shoes then the sound of the can being crushed. Nathaniel paused.

"Hello?" He called into the darkness, instantly kicking himself. There could have been anyone down there, waiting for some unsuspecting person to pass to steal from... or kill. He winced and shuffled backwards a few steps, then stopped. What was he thinking? He was a footballer!

"Hello?" He called again, though more timidly. There was a low growl, and something started to walk towards him.

_Step, drag._

_Step, drag._

Nathaniel started to back away again, icy fear creeping through him. His mind raced for explanations; a cat? Too big. A dog? Maybe, but... a wolf? Jeez, he hoped not. Wolves had been spotted wandering into the city from the forests in the hills. One thing he was sure about; it couldn't have been human._ It had_ to be some sort of animal, else why would it growl?

Then again, why was it wearing shoes?

_Step, drag. _

_Step, drag._

_Step..._

The thing paused.

Nathaniel was now on the opposite side of the road, in front of the local bakers shop. There was a rapid menagerie of horror movie playing through his head. Maybe it was a Zombie? An Alien? A skinless dog from the depths of a secret medical facility that- _that's just ridiculous!_ He told himself shakily.

Without warning, his heel hit the wheel of the wooden cart in front of the window and he momentarily looked down. In a split second, he caught the sound of running, accented by the clicking of nails on the road - like a dog - then a huge jump.

"Arrgh!" Nathaniel dove to the side, arms over his head. His right shoulder hit the road, jarring it for a second. He lay on the sidewalk, waiting for the painful feeling of claws ripping; the tearing, the pain and the...

Nothing.

Opening his eyes to a slit, his heart leapt into his mouth as something furry materialised out of the darkness of the alley... and he laughed.

The little Jack Russell noticed the human and trotted out of the mouth of the alley, licking the human's face, expecting food. After all, humans had food all the time, right?

"You have no idea how much you just scared me, little one." The human chuckled and scratched it behind the ears. The dog gave a lopsided grin and yapped. The human picked himself up off the road and dusted his jacket off. The dog yapped again.

"Oh alright." The human scooped the dog up off the ground, wrinkling his nose as the dog squirmed closer to him, "You'd better not belong to someone. I don't want to be caught for dognapping."

He continued walking down the road. The dog could hear the human's heart slowing down. It snuggled firmer into the human's arms... then stiffened. Unsure, it sniffed the air... and whined.

"What is it?" The human looked down at it, "Are you hungry?"

The dog started to squirm; the human was having trouble holding it. It fell out of the human's arms and raced into another street, cowering under a bin.

"What the-... come back! I thought you liked me!" The human shrugged, "Fine, but I'm going home."

He walked out of sight of the dog, which whined again and pushed its head under a newspaper. The sound of screams shot through the air, making the human jump and look around wildly. Running boots drew nearer to it.

"Hey!" The human was almost bowled over. The other person fell on the stones, getting winded in the process. The dog watched his new human bend down, "Jesus, are you okay, you look-"

"Run!" The young woman dragged herself to her feet. She spun an eye on the corner she'd appeared from. "Why aren't you running?" She made to grab him, but then spun and bolted down the street. She skidded into the street where the dog was hiding. Leaving the dog's new human in the middle of the road, confused,

"What the... Holy Mary, mother of- AAAAAGH-urk!"

A sound much like the tearing of paper split through the old street. The girl - barely an adult - pressed herself against the wall, sinking to her knees and turning black beads in her hand. Her eyes were closed, her lips moving silently. The dog heard his new human gurgle, then hit the road like a sack of flour. Cautiously, it took its head out from under the newspaper, saw the girl... and growled.

Her eyes snapped open, glowing yellow and icy blue. She fell on all fours and held a finger to her lips, her eyes pleading with the dog to stay silent. However, thousands of years of evolution couldn't stop one canine from recognising another. He barked.

The furry head of the young woman head snapped around as it pricked its ears; something in the street was moving. She got up again and ran down the street, her form shifting, blurring... was it speed? She cast another look back at the dog, wolfish eyes terrified. Something growled from around the corner from the dog and the huge black wolf bounded away, vaulting into the wall of a building and digging claws into the concrete like some crazy mix of wolf and spider. It scrambled over the top of a building, heading as far away from St. Peters Cathedral as it could.

The dog cocked its head to the side, relaxing now that the predator had passed, and trotted back to it's human. It was on the road... again. Though this time, the dog was confused when the human didn't scratch it behind the ears like he had before. The dog yapped, hoping to catch the human's attention again. The human didn't move. Hurt and confused, the dog licked the human's cheek. Nothing. The dog whined and wriggled under the human's coat, making use of the fading warmth.

Nathaniel lay with his head to the side on the aged cobblestones, blue eyes staring at the cross fixed to the top of the Cistine Chapel. A small stream of blood fell down his chin, dripping slowly onto the road and slid between the cracks in the stones, headed for lower ground. Following the wolf-girl. Running away.

Escaping.


	2. Prisoner

The same road, four hours later.

Police sirens had been silenced about an hour ago. After properly photographing the body and flagging sites of evidence, the 20-year-old man's body was put into a bodybag and in the process of being removed. From the back of a small crowd of hysterical family and weeping friends, a young man leant against the old bakery and observed the chaos with amused eyes, a cigarette poking out of his mouth. He'd arrived barely 10 minutes ago, seeing the scene on the way to his hotel. From his position he'd heard the theories; dog, bear, wolf, psycho...

He shifted slightly, to relieve the sword he had concealed on his back from digging into his spine. From the corner of his eye, he caught the shadows of people whispering to each other, then bleeding back into the darkness. One caught his eyes, mouth closing fast; hiding something. The man grinned.

Vampires. Not the top of the food chain, as one might think.

He watched the bodybag get wheeled past him, and turned his head sharply when he caught the scent on blood; sharp. Metallic. Almost lazily, hunger stirred in his stomach - one he didn't feel very often - which he instantly snuffed out. A fresh wail made him wince slightly at the impact it had on his ears. Mildly irritated, he saw a mature woman of about 50 being led from the scene by a police officer. Obviously the boy's mother. A tall, thin Italian man followed her closely behind, hands on her shoulders and looking sorrowful. The father.

The man took a long spiteful draw on his cigarette, a small pang of jealousy had been snapped. Doubtless, if something like this had happened to him, his father wouldn't regret his death - he'd be more disappointed than anything else. His son was supposed to be a warrior... untouchable. His father had never been able to understand his wife's cautious, soft nature... something that had led him to kill her in the end. That was why, when given the chance, the man had killed his father. Ironically, his father had been proud of him - congratulating him only moments before he'd died.

The man snorted, closed his eyes and exhaled the smoke into the cold night air. Pulling himself out of the dregs of self-pity, he turned around - dropping the cigarette onto the ground and grinding it onto the road where the sparks danced and glowed for a split second... then died. He headed back to his hotel, stopping momentarily when something on the road caught his eye and he paused for a moment.

Claw marks.

He continued walking, as if he'd noticed nothing... but he had. The marks had only confirmed something to him - that the kill was the work of a Lycanthrope.

A Werewolf.

Pulling his black coat closer to his body, he wondered dryly if the Lycans were still hanging around aboveground. He doubted it. After a kill like this, with so much publicity, they'd probably disappear for a while in whatever sewer they scraped a survival from. In his mind, they were barely better than Vampires... only because they were stronger.

He waited for a car to pass, then ignored the "Don't walk" sign and crossed the road. As he stepped onto the footpath on the other side of the road, he felt the familiar burning of eyes on his back. Opening his predatory senses, he smiled to himself - apparently not _all_ of the Lycans had gone underground...

He didn't turn around but kept walking, using his senses to monitor the track of the Lycan tailing him. He turned down a deserted cul-de-sac, not the right direction to his hotel... but he had a little pre-sleep entertainment in mind. What could be more fun than beating the sense out of an overconfident Lycan?

Seeing that the cul-de-sac was empty of life, he stopped and waited, his back to the street. He didn't need to see to know when the Lycan had followed him down the cul-de-sac.He listened to the clicks of wolfish nail change into the tread of boots. He focussed, his senses so sharp that time seemed to slow.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Step.

_Come on_. He urged it playfully. The Lycan rounded the corner into the cul-de-sac and froze. The man heard the intake of breath as the Lycan realised they'd walked into a trap. Surprised as they were, the Lycan's footing was awkward and it's balance uneven on the wet road.

A mistake.

Black coat flaring, the man ran to the left - across the brick wall of a cafe - and shifted. Thousands of years of evolution and adaptation had fused with his human DNA, creating the ultimate unholy killer. Lightning coursed down his body and his skin thickened, blackening and glowing with a hellish red.

The Lycan shifted - a huge black wolf leaping backwards onto a wall behind it like a canine spider, inches away from the Demon's sword. It snarled, baring its teeth, though wary. In the city, Lycans were on the top of the food chain... right below Demons. To a normal Lycan, this would mean nothing... but for some reason, this one seemed cautious. The Demon knew at once that something wasn't right.

"What's the matter Fido? I thought you wanted to get closer to me." He laughed, leaping onto the wall. Suddenly the whole battle was in perspective again - to them the wall was the ground.

Anyone walking past at that moment would have been transfixed in wonder at the two strange creatures locked in combat sword and claw on the brick wall. Perhaps they'd have tilted their head, wondering why gravity had suddenly... gone.

A massive clawed paw smacked the Demon's head and sent him slamming into the road. The Lycan leapt down after him, claws gorging into the road under it's immense weight. It was roughly the size of a large bull... which was relatively small for a Werewolf. Another thing that struck the Demon as strange; why would a smaller Werewolf attack something clearly more powerful than it? Was it brave... or simply stupid? The possibility that this was the Lycan that had killed the young man earlier surfaced in the Demon's mind. It was highly unlikely... but plausible.

Leaping to his feet, the Demon twisted to the side - breaking one of the Lycan's arms - and threw it into the wall. The arm healed instantly, and the Lycan shifted to leap up again... however, stopped by the Demon's sword at its neck. A silver sword. The Lycan brushed the blade for a fraction of a second then leapt backwards, it's skin hissing at the touch of the silver.

"So," The Demon shifted back into his human form - spiked white hair, icy blue eyes and slightly tanned skin. "Are you going to tell me why you were following me? Or do I have to beat it out of you?" He smiled... well, devilishly.

The Lycan's huge eyes blinked and it growled, the sound rising from deep within its throat. The Demon frowned; the Lycan's fur was too long for a mature adult - it hadn't even shed for the first time yet, which was usually after about two of three moons. Not only that, but it's golden eyes were flecked with glittering sapphire blue... still recognisable human-like. He stepped back from the Lycan.

"Babies. They're sending me babies." He sheathed his sword and turned his back, "I'm not going to even bother."

The Lycan snarled and leapt at the Demon's retreating back. The Demon jumped, backflipping over the angry wolf and smacking a boot again its head. The Lycan's head snapped to the side. It was carried against the opposite wall of the narrow cul-de-sac by the force of the blow. Its neck was broken, but the Demon wasn't worried. Naturally, the injury healed, but the wolf stayed down.

"12... 13?" The Demon crouched down beside the huge wolf. The human/canine eyes blinked again, full of fury, the yellow glinting between small rivers of blue. The Lycan was thinking, the Demon could tell. The huge black head looked around. The Demon fastened a powerful hand around the wolf's throat.

"I'm alone... and I don't like being followed." He growled, "Now tell me; why would your clan send a child against a Demon? I can't be _that_ infamous that your clan would send the most expendable one of them to test me out." The Lycan bared its teeth, then spat,

"I'm not a child."

"Oh really, and how old are you?"

"20." The Demon laughed, then let go of the Werewolf,

"Sure. I'll tell you what; I'll spare your life this once. I'm in a good mood." Despite a turned back, he heard the Lycan leap to its feet. "Jump at me again," He said dangerously, "And I _will_ kill you."

"Haven't spilt enough blood tonight, Virgil Sparda?" The reply was decidedly more human, and venomously sarcastic. Virgil raised an eyebrow and looked over one shoulder. He frowned, turning back around to see that the Lycan indeed _hadn't_ been lying after all. She was barely younger than him, dressed in a deep blue coloured coat. Considering the temperature in Vatican City at night, he wasn't surprised.

The girl straightened, completely human and rubbing a red mark across her neck - the remnants of the broken neck he'd given her barely a minute before. A ornate steel cross around her neck rattled against a string of black glittering beads - Rosary Beads. So she _was_ from the governing clan of Vatican City. The Clan of Lupe Carnyx was the only clan that was rigidly Catholic; pointless in Virgil's eyes - what was the use of religion amongst animals?

"As far as I'm aware," He said calmly, "the only ass I've kicked around here has been yours."

"Liar!" The Lycan leapt for him, stopping suddenly when he put out a hand to stop her. Her shoulders stopped before she touched him but her feet, however, still travelled on the wet road and she skidded to a stop at his feet. Virgil looked to the heavens and sighed,

"She's thrown herself at my feet. The clan has sent in a clown to kill me." A booted foot suddenly smacked him solidly on the chin - who'd have known she was flexible? Flipping herself upright, her cross and the beads tinkled around her neck.

"How could they? You pretty much exterminated them, didn't you?" She brushed his arm to the side and dealt him a staggering hit to the side of the face. He recovered quickly though, snatching her ankle as she tried to kick him. He swept a foot under her and she ended up on the road again, at his feet, his sword stopped her from rising this time. Her blue and gold eyes glittered,

"Go on. Kill me. Just like you murdered the rest of those poor bastards."

"What are you babbling about, Werewolf?"

"Over 300 of Vatican City's Werewolves are dead, slaughtered alongside the same amount of mortals." Virgil crouched down beside her,

"So somebody killed 300 mortals... if that were true, why haven't I seen it in the newspapers?"

"Because, Demon, it happened four hours ago." Virgil let her draw herself slowly to her elbows. "I know the signs of a Demon attack, and you're the only Demon I've seen stalking the streets tonight." She glared at him accusingly. Virgil brought the sword to within a hairsbreadth away from her neck and smiled,

"Keep throwing accusations around like that and I may get offended... then I'll be the _last_ Demon you see stalking the streets tonight, or any other night." He grabbed her arm suddenly, and yanked her to her feet, "Actually, I'm feeling like a little detour, Werewolf."

"You like to view your handiwork?" His eyes flashed and he tightened the grip on her arm, pulling her closer,

"I'd shut up if I were you... and I wanted to keep my arm." The Lycan wasn't moved. She brought her face closer to his,

"If I find out that it _was_ you that killed my clan, I'm going to grind your Demon ass into the _ground_." She growled.

"Right after you've thrown yourself at my feet again?" She let the taunt slip,

"Are you going, Demon?"

"After you, Werewolf."

St. Peters Square was a bloodbath. Bodybags lined the sidewalk and sheets at various intervals covered the bodies that were still yet to be identified. Virgil and the Lycan were on a roof overlooking the Square. The Lycan looked sideways at the half-Demon. Very quickly, her suspicions wandered again, like they had when he'd Devil-Triggered. She was sure of what she'd seen in the Square... what had stalked her throughout the streets of Vatican City and left her for dead.

The Devil form of the Son of Sparda had not been it.

The wiped the drizzle off her forehead. She hated the rain - almost as much as she hated Demons. Demons had been hated most of all by _all_ members of her clan; they were Unholy. Evil. Just looking at her pack-mates on the huge stone slabs of the Vatican step renewed the hate. She'd seen the Demon tear into her brothers and sisters. With her Lycan eyesight, she could name them all from the rooftop; Mary, Paul, Benedict, Sarah, Peter... and Pius.

The half-Demon's hair had fallen into his face, damp with rain. She watched him brush it back from his face with a predator-like calculation. It was almost spiked at the back by itself. Pure white... no, silver. She reprimanded herself; a Demon with _white_ hair? What was _white_ about a Demon? A sharp pain in her foot made her half stand, however she was stopped suddenly by a hand landing heavily on her shoulder. Virgil's eyes were still on the bloody scene below as he increased the force on her shoulder so she sank back down again.

"Going somewhere?" He asked.

"Shifting my weight so my foot doesn't fall off actually." After a moment, the hand on her shoulder slid to the side, allowing her to turn and sit with her back against the wall of the rooftop garden.

"These people were killed by Lycans." He spoke more to himself.

"That's bullshit." Virgil turned to face the Lycan. Face infuriatingly calm, he asked,

"So you have more experience than me in these matters, I presume?"

"I doubt-"

"Then how," He stepped off the small wall circling around the edge of the building, "could you possibly know whether or not this mass murder of mortals and mutts was not the work of another Lycan?"

"Because I saw it." The half-Demon gave another smile; one of the cheerful-and-I'm-going-to-kill-you-later smiles, crouching down beside her. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the throat,

"You said 600+ mortals and Lycans had been killed. You didn't say anything about witnesses."

"Who said I was a witness?"

"Then what are you?"

"A survivor." He put a hand over his eyes and let go of her. She fell back against the concrete garden edging, rubbing her neck and glaring at him.

"What would you care, Demon? You don't strike me as a dealer of justice to evil-doers." She spat.

"I'm simply interested. I'd like to know about something this powerful," He motioned to the blood-covered Square, "on my turf." He went back to the edge of the roof. The Lycan yanked him around again.

"_Your_ turf? This is _our_ territory." She touched the silver cross at her neck. It had the form of a wolf twisted around it, howling. He smiled,

"_Your_ territory? You and... Who? Last time I checked, your pack-mates were dead."

"You're not getting it without a fight." She growled. Virgil laughed,

"And I suppose _you're_ going to fight me?"

"If I have to."

"What are you going to do? Throw yourself at my feet again?" She snarled and tried to hit him again. He swept the arm to the side, catching her wrist and twisted the arm behind her back. "How many times must we go through this?" He sighed and twisted the arm harder behind her. She hissed in pain, sinking to one knee. Moving closer behind her, he whispered in her ear, "You can't beat me, Werewolf. Don't waste your time."

"I was one of the best fighters in my clan."

"And look how they ended up: Pigeon food on the steps of St. Peters." She flipped under the arm, kicking a leg around his left knee - flooring him,

"I hope whatever killed my clan rips you limb from limb." She snarled.

"I thought this was all my doing?" He got a knee under her and kicked her against the garden again, where she stayed - a safe distance from him.

"It's always nice to know I'm appreciated." He smirked and went back to looking off the edge of the roof. After a while, he stepped back, "I want a closer look." The Lycan laughed,

"You're going to waltz right past the police officers and tamper with evidence?"

"No. I'm going to waltz right past the police officers and find out what really did this... and kill it." He looked straight at her, "And you're going to help me."

"And why," She said poisonously, "would I help you?"

"Because," Virgil drew his sword again, making the scraping of the metal ring on the rooftop, "What you need to understand is; the only reason why you're alive right now is because you're of a use to me." He spun the sword in one hand lazily, "If you were to _not_ help me, then you'd no longer be of _any_ use to me, and what that means is that you'd be seeing the rest of your little clan sooner than you first thought." Lightning-fast, he swung the sword, cutting through the rain. The Lycan flinched as it whistled past her head; missing her by centimetres. The half-Demon sheathed the sword with a smile. When she opened her eyes, two red roses fell into her lap, lopped from the bush behind her. She picked one up and turned it in her hands,

"So I'm your prisoner." Virgil shrugged,

"Informant, prisoner, hostage... call it what you like." The Lycan snapped a thorn off the rose's stem. And another.

"So what's it going to be, Werewolf?" Virgil asked. She gritted her teeth, snapping the rose's stem in half violently.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked through her teeth.


	3. No escape

Both security guards were almost asleep, despite being pumped with coffee. not that they'd mention that in their report of that night. And, believe me, their report was read _a lot_ in the nights that followed. After all, strange creatures? Destruction of public property?

It should have been one interesting read... but it wasn't.

They mentioned how they were completely alert, making sure that nobody tried to tamper with the crime scene. Keeping a constant eye out. They'd then go on to say that at approximately 22:30, they heard what they both comfirmed as a cry for help. Approximately 50 meters away, and around the corner of a shop. Making a quick decision between them, officer Italo Gianni went to investigate.

Officer Gianni would then state that he found a struggle going on between a tall white-haired man and a slender black-haired woman. When asked to describe any other features of the two, he denied being able to see anything other than their forms - it was a dark night. Upon ordering the man to unhand the woman, he kept the man at gunpoint against the wall. He turned his back to the woman for a second, then was suddenly knocked unconscious.

Officer Karl Romano will second the statement, telling how he too went to investigate after officer Gianni didn't return. However, he was confronted with an empty alley... then was struck unconscious.

The investigation will hit a dead end. Apart from bruises, missing firearms and stolen cash, to the two officers were unharmed...

... the disappearing bodies were a whole different thing.

"Guns?" Virgil asked the Lycan. She tucked the guns into what he now recognised as hip holsters, not a fancy belt as he'd first thought. She found the spare ammo and tucked it into an inside pocket of her long coat.

"Not all of us have a big fancy sword to swing around, Demon." She relieved the officers of their money, "And some of us need money for ammunition." Virgil shrugged,

"Have it your way." He brushed past her, then stopped, "By the way, guns don't have much of an effect on me."

"I'm heartbroken." She smirked, though she did look slightly disappointed. Virgil rounded the corner into St. Peters Square and ducked under the police tape. The Lycan followed closely behind.

The square would have broken any human heart. So many people, dead, whilst praying for the life of their leader. Virgil, however, surveyed the square not as a crime scene, but as an old battlefield,

"Where were you standing, where did it come from, and where did it go?"

"Direct, aren't you?"

"What do you want me to do? Fall down in a fit of despair?" The Lycan threw him a disgusted look, then knelt down beside a group of bodies.

"I was standing here, talking to Pius." She gently lifted the steel cross from around the elder man's neck. It was different to hers; a simple celtic design. In fact, Virgil noticed, the crossed were all different for each Lycan.

So why was hers the biggest?

"Let me guess. He was Irish?"

"Yes." The Lycan suddenly stopped, looked down at the cross in her hand, then back at the Demon. Virgil answered her silent question,

"I'm half-human. Crosses won't work" She looped the cross around her neck and muttered something to herself. She pointed at a street, across the other side of the huge fountain in the center of the square,

"It came from there." She took another cross from a female Lycan.

"And where'd it go?"

"I don't know. I ran." She had another cross in her hands. Altogether, she had 13 around her neck. "The crosses of the 12 Elders of our clan."

"Like the 12 Apostles?" Virgil brushed past her, "Great. Religious nuts." She caught his arm in a vice-like grip,

"Our religion is the only thing that separates up from animals."

"I'm sure, in their own little world, spiders have a God... does it make them any more of an animal? Does it stop them from eating their young? Does it stop me from stepping on them? If there is a God, I'm sure he's laughing at your clan as we speak."

"You know nothing of God!"

"More than you, I'm sure. Now what did this creature look like?" The Lycan was stunned how he could change the subject so abruptly. It took her a moment to realise that he was talking about the creature that had killed all these people. The hand holding his arm fell to her side limply,

"I told you. Like a Demon." Virgil grabbed her wrist, dragging her down to see the deep claw-marks across a man's face.

"See that?" He asked, "A little lesson for you, Werewolf; Swords not Claws. Demons use swords _not_ claws. I'm not going to make you repeat it back to me."

Across the square, under a sheet, something twitched.

The Lycan tore her own arm free,

"Then if it wasn't a Demon, and it wasn't a Lycan, what was it?"

"That's what I'm trying to discover. You're not being very useful, Werewolf."

"Then why drag me around with you?"

"Because I enjoy it."

"I figured as much." She growled.

From another corner of St. Peters Square, the bodybags started to writhe. The two in the square, however, didn't notice.

"What else uses claws?" The Lycan demanded. She knew... but she didn't want to dare say it out loud. The Demon may guess himself... but, if it couldn't be… they'd followed her _this_ far?

Slowly, a bodybag started to unzip. Bloodstained fingers pushed the zip further down, allowing arms to slide out of the yellow plastic bag.

Virgil thought for a moment, until something moved out of the corner of his eye. He drew his sword slowly, eyes fixed behind the Lycan's shoulder

"I think I know."

"What?" She asked, beginning to turn her head.

"_Don't. Move._" He snapped. Out of the darkness something huge, black and glowing red leapt at the Lycan. Spinning his sword, Virgil threw itso it slammed into the creature's chest. It emitted a high-pitched squeal. At that squeal, dozens of glazed eyes snapped open. Bodybags ripped and people drew themselves to their elbows - eyes fixed on the only two sources of living blood for a hundred meters.

"Hellhounds. Irritating creatures." Virgil spat. The Lycan's shoulders sagged - as if a huge weight had been placed on them.

"Then I guess, we're going to have company." Only now did Virgil noticed the crowd of dead that was slowly gaining numbers around them.

Hellhounds, being the sheepdogs of the dead, had a habit of turning whoever they had killed into Zombies. It was how they fed; they could only survive on dead meat, so they'd kill people, wait for them to 'wake up' a Zombie, then eat them.

Like Virgil said - irritating creatures.

The bells of St. Peter's suddenly tolled. The Lycan dipped her head, dispite the rising dead not too far from them,

"The Pope is dead." She wrapped her black Rosary beads around her right hand. Virgil stomped and crushed a hand clawing at his leg,

"One thing you may not realise, Werewolf; if we don't kill that Hellhound, we'll be joining the rest of your clan."

The dead Werewolves were still dead. The Lycan was relieved in a way. She didn't know how she'd be able to survive if she had to fight her pack-mates. Virgil darted past her, retrieving his sword from the writhing Hellhound.

"I'll take the Hound. you take the Zombies." She paused during a 'Hail Mary',

"You get one, I get 600? That's fair."

"Remember Werewolf, be useful."

Grumbling the beginning of the Lord's Prayer to herself, she drew one of her newly aqquired guns. Spinning it like a cowboy, she smacked a male zombie into the fountain, where he writhed and screamed.

"Thy kingdom... come!" She spun, a gun over one shoulder and another in the hand that held her Rosary Beads pointed out straight in front of her. She fired both shots simultaniously, then her hands flew again, this time one gun either side of her. "Thy... will... be... done!"

Firing two shots every two seconds, the Zombies fell within 5 meters of her, having to climb over their fallen 'comrades' to get to her. She was still muttering the Lords Prayer to herself when her guns ran out of ammo. Realising that she didn't have enough time to reload, she started using the handles of the guns to crush the Zombies skull, like a drummer playing the drums. "Forgive us... our tresspasses, as we..." _Smack!_ "Forgive those who-" _Smack!_ "tresspass against-" _Smack!_ "Us!" _Smack!_

At that note, she glared over at the half-demon fighting the Hellhound. He appeared to be winning... slightly. After the small rest, she continued to fight to stay alive in the crowd of Zombies.

Across the square, Virgil was truggling with the Hellhound. It looked almost like a dog… covered in writhing snakes that darted in every direction, ready to poison whatever they managed to bite. It was the poison that revived the dead as zombies. Virgil had no idea what the poison might do to some with half-Demon blood like him, but was determined not to find out.

The cobblestoned street that the Hellhound had followed him down was silent. Closed shops, dark windows… not even a breeze disturbed the silence that had seemed to fall over the city. Vaguely, Virgil found it eerily convenient. He could hear the brainless growls and grunts of the Zombies and a faint strain of the Lord's Prayer as the Lycan fought them from around the corner in the square.

Virgil s had been thrown against a wall, and paused for a moment before leaping to his feet. It swooped down and raised a claw to strike.

"Do you have _any_ idea how much I hate Hellhounds?" Virgil asked, grabbing the raised arm and spinning it, snapping the crature's arm.

"I mean, I even used to live in Hell." He continued, kicking the Hound viciously into a small crowd of it's Zombies, "Even in Hell, I didn't like your kind." Spinning his sword, he tried to ram it through the creature's heart, but it twisted at the last moment and the sword went through it's stomach. It squealed again and dug it's claws into Virgil's back, tearing him away fom it. He slid across the road, clawmarks healing instantly. He stood back up,

"See? You won't stay still." He felt the tears in his coat, "And you ruined my coat."

He shifted to his Demon form and sent a chain of green lightning crackling towards the creature. It wrapped itself around the Hellhound, barely singeing it. Though the lightning did slow it down down enough for Virgil to draw his sword out of it's stomach.

"Alright then, " He watched the creature get to it's feet, " a little something that my father ttaught me..." He kicked out hard, snapping the creature's neck and momentarily pre-occupying it. Taking the chance, he plunged his sword through the Hound's heart. It gave another high-pitched wail and sank to it's knees. Virgil pulled his sword out of it's chest with a grating sound, changing back into his human form.

"I win." He sheathed his sword and turned to walk away.

"Don't count on it, Demon." Virgil turned,

"Excuse me? I believe I just turned you into an unholy shish-kebab." The Hound smiled,

"There are others, Demon. You cannot protect her forever..." It's head lolled to the side and it slumped, dead. It's bloodred eyes staring at... the Lycan?

"Protect her?" Virgil laughed at the assumption and walked back into the square. Though he had the feeling that something much deeper than a simple mass-murder was going on. Something that made him suspect that it all concerned the Lycan.

Something that he wasn't sure that he wanted to get himself into.

The Lycan was trying to catch her breath. Once Virgil had killed the Hound, the Zombies had fell, dead.

No, really... _dead_.

She saw Virgil stop at the edge of St. Peters. She'd shifted, in her place stood a very large black wolf. There was, what, 200 meters between them? It had to be a head-start. She looked over her shoulder, then bolted.

"Oh no, you don't." Virgil shifted forms and swept across the square. He stopped on the wall of an office building, claws digging into the brickwork. Below him, the two Police officers that they'd knocked out were coming around. Ironic really; they only wake up _after_ all of the action. They wouldn't see any Zombies, or the Hellhound. Only...

Virgil grinned to himself, then roared animalistically. The Police officers looked around wildly below him. Virgil jumped off the building onto it's roof, smug. That'd give them something to tell their superiors about... _and_ it would probably scare the bejeevies out of the Lycan. He wasn't in a hurry to catch up to her. The city was dense and basically a grid, so it wouldn't be too hard to find her. Plus she was probably so desperate to run away that she'd practically announce her prescence where ever she was.

He jumped down onto a street. He could hear the fading clicks of the Wolf's claws on the road ahead. Suddenly, the tone changed; she'd jumped onto a wall to change the trail. Virgil leapt onto a wall again and smiled to himself. She'd have to try a lot harder than that to try and shake him off.

Ahead, the Lycan glanced backwards. Seeing him following her, she turned sharply - running up a wall - and cut across the roof of the building. She stopped the fast trot and broke into a four-footed gallop, digging her claws into the ground (or wall) under her. She was slowly gaining speed across the night. However, no matter how fast she ran, how many times she turned and doubled back, she could hear Virgil barely 50 meters behind her.

Finally, she jumped down from a rooftop and landed in an alley. Virgil could hear her heart pounding from where he was. She was scared. He shifted to his human form and landed on the street with an almost inaudible thump.

"So you've given up running, Werewolf." He spoke into the darkness. The street was silent, save for the scurrying of rats in the drains. Virgil smiled, "So you've decided to hide. Or wait, let me guess, hide until I'm off-guard then throw yourself at my feet again?"

There was a snarl and the Lycan leapt out of a shadowed corner of the dead-end alley. They clashed loudly, Lycan claws and Demon sword. Using his left hand, Virgil pushed her claw away, whilst jumping and delivering a solid kick to the side of her head. She hit the small stack of crates of the shop to her right and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

No longer able to keep control of her form, she shifted back into the pale young woman that Virgil had been tormenting. He felt a small strain of guilt, then swept it to the side. That Hellhound had been looking for _her_; it had killed those people because it hadn't been sure of which one of them was her. Which meant that it was taking orders off someone... or something. Someone who obviously wanted her dead so they could take control of Vatican City._ Virgil's_ claim, and as far as he was concerned, he was going to keep both eyes on the Lycan until he found out who it was... and destroyed them.

Vatican City was _his_.

He picked the Lycan up,

"You, believe it or not Werewolf, are still useful."


	4. Powerplay

First of all, people, _I am so sorry_! I meant to update, but I've had to deal with my final high school year for the last… well, year. Sooooo much work, but here's the next - very short! - chapter… next one is still coming soon!

* * *

When the Lycan finally woke up, she wished she hadn't.

Putting a hand to her pounding head, she tried to sit up. The movement made the strained muscles in her back scream in protest and she snapped her eyes open, seeing Virgil on the balcony smoking, his coat lying on a chair a few meters away from her. Ignoring her aching muscles (Just how long had she been unconscious anyway?), she spotted the door and started moving towards it quietly.

"I wouldn't bother, Werewolf." Virgil said suddenly, turning around, "It's locked." He flicked the butt of the cigarette over the balcony and walked back into the room. The Lycan didn't sit back down; not wanting to be caught off-guard when he tried to do… whatever it was that he wanted to do with her. He obviously needed her for something, or else he wouldn't have chased her down after the fight in St. Peter's Square. The only question was; what was it… and how could she use it against him?

"And here I was, thinking that you were just a bad dream." She snarled. Virgil sighed and poured himself a drink from the small dilapidated fridge in the corner,

"If you continue to act like a dog, I _will_ have to take you for your shots." He stepped almost lazily to the side, twisting her incoming hand behind her back before it reached him and pinning her to the wall. "Not much of a fighter are you?"

"What do you need me for? Venice is as good as yours!" She hissed, wincing slightly afterwards from the pressure on her already strained muscles. She then became aware of the fact that she was alone in a room with a man who was infinitely stronger than she was and - not to mention - a better fighter. A small tendril of fear ate into her stomach.

Virgil sensed the change and smiled,

"You're afraid."

"I'm trapped in a room with a sadistic bastard who use me to wipe the walls if he wanted to. What do you expect, Demon?"

"You've hurt my feelings now… and just to put your mind at ease," He whispered in her ear, "What I need… is answers. For instance, why are the Hellhounds coming above-ground for the first time in several thousand years?" He took another sip from the glass, holding her with one arm.

"How should I know? Maybe they were looking for something?"

"Nice answer… and would this something happen to be owned by the Lycanthrope Clan?"

She was silent, grinding her teeth.

"Perhaps. I wouldn't know, now would I? I've only been a part of the Clan for two moons."

"Come now." Virgil put down the empty glass, "Surely they'd have told you if they had something that the Hell would want so badly. Something powerful." The Lycan was silent.

"Something that had helped them control the city for - let's say - 300 or so years?"

"That's ridiculous!"

"Oh really?" Virgil let go of the Lycan's arm and the spun away, putting distance between them. "I seem to recall a conversation I had with a Hellhound recently." The Lycan suddenly went pale. Virgil continued, "He remarked on something I appeared to be protecting… and since there's no way in hell that it could be you, I'm only left to assume that it's something back in that little sewer that all Werewolves call home."

The Lycan laughed,

"You've finally gone crazy. There's no way that the Clan of Lupe Carnyx could hold something that powerful without at least the _Vampires_ knowing about it." She eyed him up and down, "And somehow I think you'd be able to scare the information out of them easily."

"So you swear that you have no item of power, heavenly or unholy, being hidden by your clan." The Lycan noticed his eyes glimmer; he was planning something.

"Yes."

"Why don't you prove it, then? Take me to your wolf den. If there's nothing there," He shrugged, "I'll leave. If there is… then you'll be in a lot of trouble for lying to me, Werewolf." The Lycan realised that she'd been cornered. If she said no, then he'd think she was lying.

"And if I refuse?"

"If you refuse, then I'd kill you and follow your scent to the den anyway." The Lycan's eyes narrowed,

"You… could do that?"

"I'm half-demon, remember?"

The Lycan turned around, thinking. She clenched her fists then lashed out in frustration, swiping the glass Virgil had used into the wall. It shattered and fell in pieces onto the floor.

"Fine." She growled. Virgil smiled again and swung his coat back on, opening the door,

"Ladies first."

"You said the door was locked."

"I lied."

She took a deep breath, like she was going to say something, but stopped herself and stormed through the door. Virgil grinned to himself and swung the door shut behind him. The Lycan suddenly pivoted,

"How do I know that you won't just kill me when we get there anyway?"

"You don't, Werewolf."

"And one more thing, my name is Celeste." She glared at him before she spun back around, "Use it."

"Whatever you say, Werewolf."

* * *

Next one's halfway done. Tomorrow, I promise!

JackyXx


	5. Gentle Persuasion

Firstly, I HAVE to apologise for not updating. I've had my HSC exams and haven't even had time to breathe, let alone write enough to update.

However, to make it up to people, here's another two chapters!

* * *

Virgil was enjoying himself.

Having someone to control and threaten had always appealed to him. It was like when he was little; he and his brother would catch all of the spiders in the garden and keep them in jars, feeding them flies and watching them until they finally died. Virgil watched the back of the Lycan – Celeste – as she shouldered through the street crowd and wondered how long she'd last.

As they approached a small bookshop with boarded up windows on the outskirts of the market, Virgil became aware of the fact that they were being followed. He didn't say anything to Celeste… seeing how long it took for her to notice. She suddenly stopped at a jewelry stall, pretending to be interested in a particularly ugly necklace,

"I thought you'd like to know that you're being followed." She muttered.

"I know."

"Since we passed that souvenir shop three blocks back." There was a pause.

"I know." Virgil said smoothly, when in fact he hadn't noticed them that early.

She didn't have to know that.

"We have to lose them. There's no way I'm leading them to the Den." She said it firmly, though kept her eyes on the ugly necklace as she turned it in her hands.

Virgil laughed as if she'd made a joke and leaned into whisper in her ear, putting a strong arm around her waist. To anyone watching, they looked like young couple on holidays.

"Not a problem. Do exactly as I say. I want to find out why trouble seems to follow you everywhere you go, Werewolf."

Celeste's eyes glittered angrily, but she smiled emptily and slid her own arm around his waist and followed him away from the jewellers stall.

The watcher stayed in the shadow of the cramped buildings, trying to avoid the sunlight if they could. They watched the two at the jewellery stall leave, then resume their path along the crowded road. They hadn't noticed him yet.

They turned a corner, into an alleyway. Perfect. Rounding the corner, the watcher frowned. Gone? Cautiously, he climbed down from the wall like a human spider and landed on the stone pathway with a barely audible creak of leather. He was wrapped in black, wearing a mask and goggles.

His green eyes scanned the narrow road, there was a crossing a few meters ahead… had they turned down another street? As the moments went by, the more he thought that perhaps these two weren't as clueless as he'd first thought. They were good… very good.

Drawing two thin silver Sai's from his back, he pressed his back to the wall and started edging forward towards the narrow intersection. After a moment's pause, he clenched his Sais firmly and leapt around the corner to face… nothing.

"What the fuck?" He looked behind him. Nothing. How could two - whatever they were - disappear into thin air?

He was about to double back and return to the crowded street when a tiny piece of concrete 'tink'ed down the edge of a wall. He brought his Sais up in time to catch the massive force of Werewolf claws baring down in him. He was slammed onto the ground, pinned by the weight of the creature. It drew back it's lips, snarling and baring it's teeth.

"I don't like being spied on." It snarled.

"Easy Fido." A blue-coated man leapt down from the roof he'd been perched on. The wolf looked up at him maliciously at the jibe, but was silent. His lightning-blue eyes examined the Watcher critically.

"Why were you following us?" The wolf growled. The pinned man didn't bat an eyelid as the huge jaws snapped inches from his face, and stayed silent.

"You know, I can't exactly guarantee that I can stop her from eating you." The white-haired man's steely gaze boared into their prisoner's eyes.

Suddenly getting a foot under the wolf, he threw it off him with one leg. Tumbling through the air, the wolf slid across the street.

"I don't respond well to threats." He leapt to his feet and threw a Sai at the Demon. He'd barely blinked before the Demon caught it deftly in one hand. The Demon smiled.

"Here, I'll swap you." He tossed something large and metal. Catching it, the black-clad man dropped it with a sudden hiss of pain. The silver cross clattered onto the stone of the street and flared white, momentarily blinding him – dispite his goggles. Shielding his eyes, he blinked the spots from his vision. He turned, yelping in pain as more crosses flared before his eyes… rosary beads. The Werewolf, now a young woman, punched him solidly in the jaw with a crunch and grabbed him by the throat.

"So, _Vampire_… are you going to answer my question or not?" She squeezed her fingers tightly. The Vampire gasped and fell to his knees.

"Not." He choked. The Werewolf started to say something, but was cut off by a hand on her shoulder.

"Allow me." The Demon interjected. He twisted his fingers into the Vampire's black bodysuit and threw him over his head with one arm, using the other to draw the sword concealed inside his coat. As the Vampire hit the street, he stepped crushingly on the Vampire's arms and laid the edge of the blade against the Vampire's neck.

"_Are you going to answer the question or not?_" He snarled, his voice ringing off the stones as lightning cracked and spun around his limbs. The Vampire licked the blood from his lips.

"Fuck you." He spat.

"Alright. Since asking nicely doesn't help…" The Demon stabbed his sword through the Vampire's arm. The silver hissed against the Vampire's flesh and he caught a cry of pain between his teeth.

"Were you sent by the same person who sent that lovely Hellhound last night?" The Demon asked impassively. The Vampire didn't reply.

"High pain threshold, huh? Why don't we try something a little more natural… like sunlight."

He sliced open the bodysuit across the Vampire's chest, for a split second baring it's skin to sunlight. With the Demon standing on his arms, he couldn't cover the opening in the suit and screamed in pain as the flesh burned under the sunlight. The Demon moved back over him, casting a shadow over the cut.

"Now, let's try this again."

"Nobody sent me!" The Vampire said at last. The Demon smiled,

"Finally, now we're getting somewhere."

Without warning, he pulled the sword out of the Vampire's arm and threw it behind him, embedding it into the wall barely an inch from the Lycanthrope's nose. She'd been silently edging her way along the wall behind the Demon whilst he was preoccupied with the Vampire.

"What have I told you about running away?" He turned to look at her. She growled wolfishly from deep in her throat and slinked back from the sword, glaring at him.

"Now where were we? Oh yes, if nobody sent you, then why are you following us? You don't strike me as a thief."

The Vampire was silent again. The Demon moved out of the sun, making the open wound sizzle in the sunlight.

"I saw you both last night." He hissed in pain. He relaxed as the Demon's shadow fell over him again. "In St. Peter's Square. You butchered those people." He clenched his fists. The Demon sighed tiredly,

"Do you know you're the second person to accuse me of that in 24 hours?"

"And what happened to the first one? You tortured and killed them too?"

"No. She's quite alive and busy being very useful." He jerked his head at the Werewolf, who was leant against a wall and still glaring at him sulkily.

"As much as I hate to say it." She said poisonously, "He's not the one that killed all those people. It was a Hellhound."

"Oh really?" The Vampire sneered, "I don't remember seeing any massive dogs last night except for you and your little unholy friend."

"I think what you caught was the end of our fight… _after_ I kicked the Hellhound's ass across the Square." The Demon smiled to himself.

"How do I know you're not lying through your teeth, Demon?" The Vampire spat. The Demon shrugged,

"You don't. You can ask her though, she's Catholic… I think there's something about telling the truth in her religion."

The Vampire looked at the Werewolf. She ground her teeth then nodded slowly, shooting daggers at the Demon's back. The Vampire gritted his teeth.

"Okay," He said finally, "I'll say I believe you… for now." The Demon stepped off his arms, allowing the Vampire to cover the cut in the bodysuit as he sat up stiffly.

"I suggest you run back to whatever rat-hole you slinked out of, Vampire. I have better things to do than waste my time with bloodsucking assassins."

The Vampire backed up a wall,

"Oh don't worry. The next time we meet, you won't be lamenting the lost time. You'll be wishing you'd had killed me when you had the chance." He jumped across to the building on the other side of the narrow street and disappeared onto the rooftop.

"And that's the end of that." The Demon sheathed his sword, "Now where were we?"

The Lycanthrope sighed and started walking away.

"This way."

From the rooftops, a pair of glittering green eyes watched them leave, then silently started to follow them once more.


	6. Make yourself at home

"You _are _a sadistic bastard, you know that don't you?" Celeste asked as they walked up a narrow stairway next to a canal.

"I've been told many a time… sometimes by people _other_ than you, Werewolf. I think the Vampire would agree with you, why don't you start a club?"

"I'd hate to make the dint in your impenetrable ego, Demon."

Finally, they reached a crumbling old church. There was a greenish-black moss growing in the cracks of the stonework of what had once probably been a grand little church. Now it's windows were stained with the air pollution of over 50 years of car exhaust and it's sandstone exterior worn away from the acid rain that had probably assulted it for the same amount of time.

Virgil raised an eyebrow,

"Werewolves, in a church? I have to give you points for originality." Celeste stopped at the door.

"I hope that Vampire comes back and guts you." She said coldly.

"Duely noted, though I don't think you'd allow him to steal the honor from you… am I right?"

The way she slammed the door open told him he _had_ been right.

The inside of the church didn't look any different from the outside. Virgil turned his head to the side as he caught the scent of mildew, dust and rats. The maroon hangings that had once hung between the huge blackened stained glass windows were now crumbled and rotting on the floor. The wooden pews had been pushed to the sides of the church, splintered and broken from moisture and woodrot.

"You really need to fire your housekeeper."

Celeste paused for a moment, then continued walking.

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, Demon." She pressed a sequence of stones beneath the rotting cross that covered the wall behind what had once been the priest's podium. The ground beneath her suddenly dropped with a 'bang', forming a set of stairs that led into darkness.

"Coming? The sooner you see I'm not hiding anything, the sooner you can leave me to live my miserable existance in peace." She said crabbily. Virgil smiled,

"Ladies first."

She ground her teeth again and disappeared into the darkness. Vigil followed behind her, hearing the floor of the church grind back up to it's usual place and sealing the tunnel shut. His eyes instantly adjusted to the dark, pupils widening to almost engulf his blue irises completely. He saw Celeste looking at him and waiting.

"How's the Demonic eyesight?" She asked.

"Bright as day."

"Damn." She turned back around and continued to lead him through the tunnel. "This was a Priest's hole, mainly built for the Christians who had to hide from the Roman army whenever they dropped in. It traces through the catacombs beneath the church."

"Not a sewer, however remarkably similar."

She ignored the comment,

"These tunnels were built by our Elders hundreds of years ago… with a few modern additions…"

They finally arrived in a well-lit room, with light provided by a massive crystal chandelier that hung over the huge hall. It as set up like a church, a few pews and and alter made up the furniture in the room, though the Roman columns that lined the sides of the church made openings to dozens of other hallways and rooms.

Unlike the church above them, the Werewolves Den was still perfectly preserved. The stained glass windows acted as separaters between the main hall and the tunnels that led from it. Each one was backlit; casting colours across the statues and carvings that wove themselves around the large Roman pillars that held the roof in place.

"That hallway leads to our rooms," Celeste pointed at the one closest to the alter, "That one leads to the kitchen and dining hall, that one to the library and the others are all tunnels to various other parts of the city." She sat on a pew, put her legs up on the pew in front of her and crossed her arms, "You wanted to see our miraculous treasure? Feel free to search every nook and cranny. Wake me when you find something, then leave."

"I hate to disappoint you, but I think I'm actually going to like it here."

She let her feet fall off the pew with a 'clunk'.

"Excuse me?" Virgil smiled,

"Once again, you've proven yourself useful. Why should I bother going back to my dingy hotel when I can enjoy the hospitality of a Lycanthrope clan?"

"Because there is no hospitality. Hospitality implies that you were invited here."

"Wasn't I?"

There was silence.

"I simply cannot believe you." Celeste said disbelieveingly, "I've given up being infuriated with you. Your ego is unfathonable."

"Come now, you really thought that I'd leave you all alone in a huge, dark, underground warren all by yourself? How un-gentlemanly of me."

"Un-gentlemanly? Have you done anything in your life that _has_ been gentlemanly? I doubt it."

"You really don't think that much of me do you?"

"I can think of a few choice words to tell you what I think of you."

"That I don't doubt. You strike me as a very angry person."

Celeste stood up and started walking towards him,

"Angry? What could possibly make you think I'm angry? After all, it's not like I've been dragged, bruised, snapped, thrown, threatened and man-handled from one side of Vatican City to the other."

"You forgot hunted, knocked out and kidnapped."

She suddenly whirled around and Virgil caught her hand before she hit him. He clamped a hand around her throat and slammed her against the sandstone wall.

"Listen;" He growled, "The world is full of people like me, some worse. My advice to you; _deal with it_." He set her back on her feet, "Now what about helping me find a room?"

"You better hope you find one with a solid lock, because I might just kill you while you sleep." She snarled.

"If I were you I'd be worried about finding myself a lock for my room. There _are_ worse things than death." He let the threat hang for a moment.

"You… you wouldn't dare."

"That _is _what you're afraid of, isn't it? You're trapped, alone, with a Demon who just so happens to be stronger and faster than you." He smiled, "If I were you, I'd be more than a little nervous too."

"You wanted a room?" Celeste snapped, "Then stop making threats and follow me… and try not to get lost." She stalked off down the hallway to the right of the alter, with Virgil following her and smirking to himself.

There were thick wooden doors lined along the right-hand side of the tunnel each one with a large iron wolf's-head knocker on it.

"I assume you'd probably want to best to yourself, being the selfish sonofabitch that you are." Celeste stopped abruptly, "This was Pius's room. Our leader." She kicked the door open, "Enjoy, Halfbreed."

The floor or the room had been laid with grey-lined slate, which was covered here and there by large rugs. A massive fireplace had been built into the left wall, on which two iron candleabras sat. On the right, was the massive four-posted bed and dark-wooden wardrobe, along with a writing desk and small bookcase.

"What? No smart remark? How disappointing." Celeste leaned against the doorframe, "Now unless - by some God-given miracle - I die in my sleep, I'll unfortunately see you in the morning."

"Not unless I see _you_ before then."

She slammed the door in his face and stalked away. However, no matter how hard she tried, it was at least three days before she managed to get any sleep.

"So…?"

The Vampire bowed his head before his master, still holding one hand over the burned flesh on his chest.

"It was the Lycan woman you search for, my Lord."

"And the Demon who accompanies her?"

The Vampire paused,

"It's not as we first thought, Sire. If anything, she seems to want to escape from him. He has no idea what he's gotten himself caught up in. He's as equally determined to have her as we are."

His master rubbed his chin,

"It seems we must find a way to make her choose; him or us. Of course, she'll choose him – then we can do as we always do and simply kill him anyway."

"But Sire," The Vampire got to his feet, "I saw her grieving at St. Peter's. We needn't bother wasting our time on the Half-Breed. She's going to snap sooner or later. Most likely sooner."

His Master thought about this and moved to the window,

"You do have a point. He is powerful and may prove troublesome." He tapped his long fingernails on the stone windowsill, staring at the rooftops of St. Peters Cathedral. "Very well then… but we must give them a few… side projects. For us to succeed, she must begin to grow accustomed to the Demon, then all we need do is threaten his life and she'll come running to us."

He smiled a perfectly white grin at the Vampire, "I know Celeste Fa-Leroux. She is a woman of conscience… and that will be her undoing."

The Vampire nodded, brown-green eyes glittering mischeviously,

"I'm sure my people will be able to come up with something to preoccupy them." His Master's eyes glowed in the moonlight, reflecting his satisfaction.

"Good. This time, I will take back what is mine."

* * *

Well... this is the part where I make a cryptic remark about the plot isn't it? To tell you the truth, I can't think of anything. So you'll just have to keep reading!

AyebeeXx


	7. Hide and Seek

Sorry about the slow update kiddos! I hit a major writers block halfway through this chapter.

Anyway, Celeste has a secret... and it lands Virge in a Hell of a lot of trouble. Ha! Get it? Hell? Yeah I know it stinks... on with the story...

* * *

The next morning, Virgil woke to hear the echoes of somebody muttering travelling down the hallway. Rolling over with a groan, he opened his eyes to slits and read the time on his watch.

5:48am

"Oh my fucking God." He slid a hand over his eyes and turned back over, savagely jamming a pillow over his head. It was no use… her voice seemed to travel through solid rock. It didn't even sound like English, just some mindless chatter like a person would develop after a few months in solitary confinement.

"Crazy talk… why does this not surprise me?" Virgil murmured as he dragged himself out of the bed. He stretched, cracking the vertebrae in his back one by one and slid on his coat, sliding his sword onto his back out of habit.

She was probably doing this on purpose, but it didn't really matter anyway; there hasn't been a night since the age of 12 that he'd slept unbothered…

He brushed the thoughts away and rounded the corner that led to the Lycan's little 'church'. On the alter to the front of the room, Celeste was kneeling. Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he realized that she was praying.

She stopped suddenly and spun around,

"Well?"

"Well what? You praying for sunny weather or something?" She growled and got up, snatching her rosary beads from the alter,

"You know, believing in something might give you something _else_ to focus your time on… instead of harassing me." Virgil laughed as she stalked past him,

"I hate to disappoint you but in this world there's only one man I believe in, and that man is me."

"Well there's a surprise!" She snapped and slammed a door open, revealing a large kitchen. Virgil decided to let her cool of for a while and disappeared back into his room.

There was a moment of silence in the hall then a shadow moved.

Celeste slammed the door to the huge fridge closed, not even blinking when a black figure suddenly appeared whilst she had had her head in the fridge.

"How do you bear that?" He asked.

"I don't." Celeste snapped and dumped some milk into her cereal.

"Aren't you afraid I'll try to attack you again?"

Celeste swallowed a mouth full of cereal and looked the Vampire up and down.

"You know what they say; the enemy of thy enemy…"

The Vampire's eyes flashed,

"I'm not your friend."

"Then why aren't you attacking me?"

"That is not what I came here for."

Celeste paused and cast a glance to the door. The Vampire grinned,

"The Demon is still at least twenty meters away."

"So speak, bloodsucker." She snapped.

"I came to warn you."

Celeste raised an eyebrow,

"About what? Power-hungry Demons planning to kidnap me?"

"No. The one you're hiding from." The Lycan froze, spoon poised over the ceramic bowl. The Vampire continued, "He's here. And he knows exactly where you are."

The bowl in Celeste's hands slipped from her grasp and shattered on the stone floor.

Virgil heard the bowl shatter on the floor in the hallway. He pushed open the door to the kitchen, seeing the Lycan bending to sweep the broken pieces of crockery into a dustpan.

"Not quite awake yet?"

The Lycan didn't reply but brushed past him. Virgil clamped a hand on her shoulder.

"What?" Celeste snapped. Virgil looked back at the kitchen then at her.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Talking to? How could I have been talking to-"

Virgil suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth and pushed her behind a wall. He frowned and flicked his eyes to the pews in the direction in which they'd come, swearing that he'd heard a step of leather shoes.

"Now what?" Celeste sighed when he took his hand off her mouth.

"Shut up." He muttered, "Who else knows about the Den?"

"No-one but the clan. I don't-"

"And you're sure they were all killed at St Peters?" Celeste glowered at him,

"Positive."

Virgil slowly slid his sword from his back,

"Then it seems we have a mystery guest."

Celeste's wolfish eyes suddenly scanned then room, her pupils moving like a camera lens as they focused on the shadows dancing in the candlelight. She drew a gun in her right hand, gritting her teeth.

"I hope whoever it is, is here to rip you limb from limb." She whispered.

"Oh, so you do care."

"Screw you." She growled and peered around the corner of the doorway. Celeste blinked, her gun lowering to the floor.

"What the fuck?" She frowned, "There's nothing there."

"At least that you can see, Werewolf, how many hidy-holes does this place have?"

"There's nothing there." Celeste said more firmly, "I'd be able to smell them… or at least see them. I'm a Lycanthrope, remem-"

Suddenly the shadows melded into one and a set of massive jaws snapped around her waist, snatching her from the floor. Virgil bent backwards just in time to avoid from being beheaded by the Hellhound before it turned tail and ran kicking a column over in his path.

Virgil devil-triggered, leaping over the column and following it into the darkness. It was purposely using a curse to make the tunnel dark - Virgil recognized it – because if it had been natural dark he would have been able to see clear as day. The metallic tang of Celeste's blood also helped and the wolfish howls as she slashed at the creatures face.

With a loud crackle, Virgil sent a ball of lightning down the unnaturally dark corridor, striking the Hellhound on its right shoulder. With a cry of pain, it dropped the black Werewolf from it's jaws. Celeste rolled across the floor and closed her bright yellow eyes, using the Hellhounds own curse against it – with the blackness of her fur and the dark of the cursed corridor, she was all but invisible.

Virgil ducked to the side to avoid the Hounds tail once more, noticing that this Demonic dog seemed a lot more dangerous than the one he'd encountered in St. Peters Square. Hounds were all unique - much like people - and whereas the Hound at St. Peters had seemed to be comprised of snakes, this one was a collaboration of knives, blades and sharp angles. He leapt into the air and drove his sword deep into the back of the dog's neck.

"Heel boy." He growled. The giant dog snorted and rammed a massive paw into the ground, raking it's claws through the cobblestones. It shook it's head violently and Virgil was forced to abandon his sword or face being sent flying. The cobblestones below the Hounds feet were uprooted like daisies and flew behind the hellish dog as if it were digging a hole.

Momentarily blinded on its left side, Virgil leapt onto the Hellhounds left leg, then onto the head, ramming his sword deep into the giant dog and quickly jumping off. The Hellhound was silent for a moment, wavering on the spot, and was still for a moment. With his back to it, Virgil sheathed his sword,

"Lay down, Fido."

With a grunt, the dog crumpled to the floor, twitching. With one last effort, the Hellhound growled and struck out with a claw. Virgil spun, drawing his second sword in one fluid motion and slicing off the dog's taloned claw. It howled in pain and fury.

"Play dead." Virgil sheathed his sword once more. The Hellhounds head suddenly fell to the side with a crash.

The curse on the hallway started to dissipate, the darkness giving way to a faint natural light. Of course, there was no sign of the Lycan. Only the sound of fading footsteps. Virgil resisted the urge to sigh and started after her, casting a glance back at the dead Hellhound behind him.

"Good Dog."

She had barely reached the large entrance hall of the Lycan's Den when Virgil caught up with her. She leapt to the side, pushing off from a large pillar and snatching one of the hanging dishes that were filled with embers and sending it flying like a deadly discus towards the half-demon. He twisted painfully to avoid the projectile however the edge clipped his throat barely, bruising his windpipe and making him gasp. Celeste shifted into wolf form once more and galloped through the dark hall to the entrance to the surface.

With one hand to his throat, Virgil painfully swallowed through the forced lump in his windpipe. Snarling, he sprang after her letting himself shift form slowly. They clashed in the darkness, whilst the stone door crawled open.

Celeste twisted to the side, feigning a swipe to her left and striking out with her right foot, sending the Demon sprawling.

"I think your losing your touch, Demon." She sneered. Virgil gritted his teeth and used the wall to spring through the air, slamming her against the other side of the tunnel. She slid to the ground, winded, as Virgil got to his feet once more.

"No. I'm just messing with you, Werewolf."

Celeste leaped out of the tunnel onto the ground of the church, whirling around to face the Demon behind her, snarling and bearing her fangs. She froze for a moment and turned around, shrinking back, one paw still raised in the air. Virgil stopped at the base of the stairs, noticing the bolt of fear that visibly shook through the Lycan.

"How did you get here?" She stammered. The sound echoed off the ancient foundations of the church.

"The same way I got to France, Vietnam, Germany and Russia, my dear." Answered a smooth voice. Virgil frowned, still remaining hidden in the Priest's Hole. He'd heard that voice before…

"Honestly," The voice continued airily, "I thought people were supposed to learn from their mistakes. Not only have you allowed yourself to be lured out of your little hiding place, but you've allowed yourself to be seen on 27 separate occasions in the last week… how did you expect to stay hidden if you're walking around in broad daylight and following every suspicious noise?"

"You were on the other side of the world." Celeste snarled, her fur bristling.

"You know what they say; It's a small world after all. Now let's all go home and forget that this ever happened."

"Like Hell!" Celeste howled and launched herself at the person Virgil couldn't see. She was instantly thrown back against the rotting wooden cross that marked the entrance to the Lycan Den. It splintered, raining down on Virgil's position, and she fell to the stone floor behind him with a bang. There was a splintering sound of wood and in an instant, Virgil leapt into the air; his sword cleaving the pew that was heading in his direction in half.

"Relative of yours?" Virgil raised an eyebrow as she shakily heaved herself to her feet. She shifted to her human form and spat blood on the ground,

"Fuck you." She snapped.

"A bundle, isn't she?" The man standing in the door wore a pure white suit and black tie. His coal-black hair was streaked with silver strands and fell just below his jaw-line. He gave a dazzling smile,

"Well, isn't this a surprise? Tell me, you wouldn't happen to be Nero Angelo, would you?" Virgil half-smiled,

"I haven't been called that in a long time." The being laughed,

"Well Celeste, I have to commend you on your choice of protectors, but I'm afraid even the ex-Lord of Hell won't be enough to stop me from bringing you back with me." There was a ripping sound and large leathery wings tore from his back, "But don't worry," He snarled as his faced started shifting form too, "I'll make his death fast and painless like all the others." He snapped his large jaws and grinned a wolfish grin before launching himself into the air.

Virgil only had enough time to bring his sword in front of the huge talon-like claws that were reaching for him and he was carried backwards with the Demon, smashing through the rows of old pews.

"I'll warn you now, boy." The Demon snarled, saliva dripping from his teeth, "There has been no-one in this world who has been able to stand between me and her."

Virgil gritted his teeth and used his legs to kick the Demon off him. He hit a stone column and slid to the ground, cracking the plaster.

"First of all," Virgil got to his feet and cracked his neck, "You really need a heavy-duty mouthwash, because I can understand why no-one would want to get between the Werewolf and that thousand-year-old stench." He drew his other sword from the sheath on his spine; it was somewhat shorter, but Virgil figured it would help. "And second of all; she's _my_ Lycan. You can go find your own to bully around, but until I own this city…" He struck a ready stance with both swords as the Demon got to his feet, shaking off the plaster, "This Werewolf is going nowhere."

Celeste shifted to her Wolf form on his right, snarling,

"I'm not your anything, Demon." Virgil smiled,

"Say you." Then he Devil-Triggered. Lightning coursed down his body and his skin thickened, turning the same mix of red and green as his massive wings. The Demon wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth,

"Impressive, laddie, but the girl's right. She's not your anything... " He suddenly flapped his wings and landed both talons on the Demon Hunter. They rolled twice, before coming to a smashing halt at the altar. Virgil's head hit the stone with a loud crack and he was momentarily frozen as spots crossed before his eyes. He winced as he felt the claws dig into his chest.

"…she's _my_ Hellhound." The Demon grinned, teeth glistening.

"He's lying!" Celeste snarled again, leaping on the Demon's back. The added weight of the Lycan forced the Demon's claws further into Virgil's flesh. The Demon roared in pain and threw her off him like a ragdoll, twisting his claws further into Virgil. Celeste twisted in the air, landing on all fours on the wall and raking her claws across the Demon's face. He stumbled back, clutching his face, then hissed,

"Now… you're really starting to piss me off." He snapped his jaws. Virgil drew his hands together, then grabbed onto the Demon's ankle,

"Ask me if this is the part where I care." He growled and sent a massive jolt of electricity into the Demon. He flew backwards and skidded across the ground whilst Virgil drew himself to his feet. The Demon twitched then dragged himself to his feet, wavering.

"Very impressive, boy… but I'll be back." He snarled, "Nothing can keep a Hellhound from it's Master." The air around him suddenly turned to glowing ash and he disappearing a whirlwind of red and black.

Virgil slowly bled back into his human form, catching his breath. The Demon had been incredibly fast… faster than him. He'd never had that much trouble fighting a Demon before, except maybe his little brother. He winced as a deep breath caused a healing talon-wound on his chest to tear open again.

"Well," Celeste shifted and snapped her shoulder-joint back into place, "It's not what I hoped for, but at least he a_lmost_ ripped you apart." Virgil suddenly spun, clamping a hand around her throat.

"Okay Werewolf," He growled, "You're going to tell me what the fuck is going on… and you're going to do it right now."

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Oooh! Mystery! Intreigue! Blood and Gore!

Next update is coming soon. I promise! X my heart and hope to be carried away byan attractive - evil -son of Sparda:P


	8. Kill me

I'm soooooooo sorry! I'm so lazy sometimes. I've had the worst writers block of my life!!! Anyways, I've started again... thank god. Next chapter!!!

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"How do you know that I know what's going on?" Celeste gasped, clawing at the hand around her throat, "I've had my ass kicked by that bastard before, now he's obviously back for more."

Virgil narrowed his eyes and slammed her into the church wall, chunks of plaster falling around his boots.

"As entertaining as I find that explanation," He hissed in her ear, "I don't buy it."

"Why? Is it so hard to believe that there's someone else in Italy that enjoys making my life a misery besides you?" Virgil slammed her into the wall again. For a moment - barely a split second - her irises darkened and she blinked at him with bloodred eyes… then her eyes returned to normal as fast as they had changed.

Virgil felt the demon inside him coil into a defensive knot around his stomach.

"Nice eyes… aww, am I making you angry?"

The Lycan swiped at him with a claw… a huge, taloned claw and gave a scream. Her talons caught him on the side of his face. Instantly the cuts started burning and rotting. Celeste was silent, then she looked away. Beelzebub hadn't been lying.

"I guess that answers my question." He felt the festering wounds on his cheek, "So how'd you manage to look like-"

"A human?" She finished quietly. "All Hellhounds have Human forms, just like Demons do. I just don't use my Hound form." She looked out the window, "I was somehow seperated from Hell when I was a pup, and raised in France as a Human. One day my foster family was attacked by Beelzebub and his Hellhounds, and I found out what I really was... but I didn't want to be like them. So I ran. I've run since I was 12 years old, and they've still chased me - killing everyone who I get close to. I thought I'd finally found some peace when I found the Lycan clan about six months ago. I thought I'd found people who I could rely on to survive against the Hounds, so I asked to be made one of them. Now they were killed..." She smiled grimly, "and here I am today."

"So what is it that the Hounds want?"

"To take me back to Hell, to make me one of them again."

"Are there any... other little secrets I should know about? Evil Stepmothers?"

"No." She gave him a black look, "That's pretty much it."

"Good." He let her drop to her feet and shoved her back towards the Lycan den. He suddenly grabbed her wrist – hard - and drew her close enough for her to watch his skin knit itself back together. "And the next time you ruin my face," He breathed into her ear, "I get to ruin yours."

Celeste pulled back her arm violently, rubbing the wrist. For a moment, her eyes swam,

"What made you so cruel?" Virgil saw the pity hiding in her eyes and snorted in disgust, pulling the massive trapdoor to the rotting church closed with a bang.

"Back to your cage, canary."

They walked back along the tunnel in silence. Virgil barely managed to control his anger; she pitied him! Her? For a split second he'd wanted to shake the look from her blue eyes… eyes that made him feel petty. Made him feel… conscious. He shook the thought from his head; a conscience was the last thing he needed now.

"What no jokes?" Celeste said finally, "I'm not worth insulting any more?"

"I don't like Hellhounds."

"Then why don't you kill me?" With a smack, she turned off the safety lock on her gun, spun it, pushed it into one of Virgil's hands and pressed the barrel over her heart, tightening her hand over Virgil's so he couldn't let go of the gun. "Kill me." She said plainly. Virgil simply looked at the gun and was silent. "Do it! I'm making it easy for you!" She urged, "Silver bullet through the heart; Bang!... and you can have as much of Vatican City as you want."

With a thump, Virgil thrust her against the wall and making her gasp in surprise. The gun lay cold in his hands. Still silence.

"What are you waiting for?" She snarled. Virgil could tell she was angry; he could see her breathing and feel her pulse through her hand. Her eyes were wild, frantic. He reached over with his left hand and peeled her hand off his, dropping the gun to the floor. He got up and turned away to leave.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

He paused in the tunnel, though didn't turn. He could hear the anger fading from Celeste's voice; she was more curious.

"I don't like guns either." He said finally and left the room.

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See, even I don't know why I'm writing this stuff. Most of the story isn't planned... some is... some isn't. Next update... umm... After Australia Day long weekend. X my heart! 


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